


Helpless

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Demon Dean, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this kink meme prompt:<br/>http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/100932.html?thread=38439748#t38439748</p><p>Demon!Dean drugs Sam and ties him up in the bunker. He uses Sam as his sextoy, relishing in his pain and humiliation. Sam tries to fight him, but a part of him can't help but enjoy his degradation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam awoke with a painful groan. It seemed like every part of his body was throbbing, especially his shoulders.

Then he snapped alert, panicking. Several things became clear immediately: he was blindfolded, his arms were bound above his head, and he was completely naked. Sam had been tied up in a kneeling position, so his hands were probably tethered to the ceiling. No wonder his shoulders hurt - he could have been in this position for hours. His ankles also seemed to be chained together. Sam shook his head a little, trying to clear it. He could still feel the lingering effects of whatever drug he'd been given to knock him out.

"Dean?" he called out cautiously. If someone had gotten the drop on Sam, there was a good chance that they had Dean too. Maybe he was nearby and hadn't regained consciousness yet. 

Suddenly Sam remembered that Dean wasn't anywhere nearby. He was a demon now - he probably wasn't even in the same state as Sam anymore. The realization was bitter. No one would be coming to save him. After what happened to Dean, there wasn't anyone who even cared what happened to him anymore.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. He straightened his spine as much as possible and turned his head towards the noise, though his eyes could only see darkness. 

"Who's there?" he called, straining his eyes in vain to try and see through the blindfold. No one answered, but Sam had the unsettling sensation that someone was right in front of him, crouched down and looking at him. He stilled, fear crystallizing in his belly. 

"Who's there?" he asked more softly, almost pleadingly. There was no reply in words, but all of a sudden there was a soft touch to the tip of his cock - so light he almost thought he'd imagined it at first. Sam flinched away, but the touch followed, running up the soft length of his cock. It continued stroking, the touch firming until he could feel that it was the tip of someone's finger. Then two fingers. They lowered back to the tip and circled around the head of his cock. Sam couldn't help shivering, though he told himself it was just from the cold.

"Please... stop it. Don't do this," he said helplessly as his cock began to harden. He heard a soft, sharp intake of breath, like his captor was aroused. Aroused at his helplessness, probably. And Sam was completely helpless. He tugged at his restraints, but they wouldn't budge.

Soon Sam reached full hardness, just from the hand slowly stroking and caressing him. This whole situation was strangely arousing even aside from the stimulation - Sam had fantasized about things like this happening to him before, though he'd tried not to. Being taken against his will and forced to feel pleasure - or better, his tormentors forcing him to pleasure them. Being tied up and blindfolded. Sam shivered again. 

But fantasies were just fantasies, he reminded himself, and this was real life. And in real life, it was entirely possible that his captor would kill him. Still, he couldn't prevent the arousal from spreading through his body until he was trembling and on the edge of orgasm.

The hand withdrew, and Sam was sure that a stray touch to his dick or his nipples (pebbled and sensitive in the cool air) would make him explode.

He strained his ears, trying to brace himself for whatever was going to happen next.

\---

Sam had been expecting his captor to kill or torture him, and it looked like he wasn't going to be disappointed - the next touch to his cock was cold metal, what felt like the flat of a knife. He froze up, tugging at his arms futilely but afraid to move his lower half even an inch. 

"Please don't cut my dick off. Please, just tell me why you're doing this. Please"

There was no answer. The knife moved slowly up and down his cock, just like the fingers had, until his cock (which had gone half-hard in fear) was fully hard again. Then the knife moved up, agonizingly slowly, to his navel, over his stomach, until it reached his collarbone.

The knife made its first cut right below the dip in his collarbone. It was small and shallow, and it stung slightly. Sam had had worse. He shifted slightly on his knees, which were aching pretty badly. There was really no point trying to get away, he reflected gloomily. Even if he did get free, he was still too shaky from the drugs to get far and this person - or monster - could just stab him. For all he knew, there could be ten other people in the room watching him.

The next cut was just a few inches under that one, further down his chest and equally small and shallow. It was almost like his captor was being - "reverent" and "worshipful" were the only words coming to mind, but that couldn't be right. Whoever was doing this was hurting him. And getting excited about it, it sounded like - his captor's breathing, the only sound Sam could hear aside from his own panicked gasps and the blood pounding in his ears, was getting faster. 

The shallow cuts continued down his torso. Sam couldn't quite tell, but he thought a few of them might be dripping blood. Not much, though. Hopefully he wouldn't die of blood loss. 

The final cut was right over his tattoo, and it was the largest. It felt like it went right down the center of the tattoo, cutting it in half.

Had he been kidnapped by demons? Or a demon? If they wanted to possess him, why not just knock him out and cut off his tattoo right away instead of going to the trouble of tying him up?

Speaking of that, how had a demon gotten in the bunker? Sam tried to recall what he had been doing before he'd been knocked out, but the last thing he could remember was falling asleep in bed - definitely in the bunker. He must have left it and just couldn't remember, because nothing demonic could have gotten past all of those wards. He'd spent the day once again trying to track down Dean. There hadn't been any mass killings in the U.S. so far, so maybe he was trying to stay under the radar. But with the mark and his newly demonic nature stoking his bloodlust, he was sure to give in soon if he hadn't already.

Sam's thoughts we interrupted by a wet sucking sensation over his most recent cut. A warm tongue licked over it feverishly before moving on to the next one. And the next. Sam had twelve cuts total, and they were all lavished with attention. Sam tried to lean away, but the mouth just followed him, relentless.

Suddenly Sam felt an entire body against him. Up to this point, Sam had only felt his captor's fingers and lips, so to suddenly have his entire body up against Sam was a shock. Sam could tell it was a he because of the erection prodding at his navel. The demon - at least, Sam thought it was a demon - was sitting on his thighs, grinding down on him torturously slowly. Whoever it was seemed to be fully clothed, too. It made Sam excruciatingly aware of his own nudity, and he felt heat pool in his cheeks. Sam recalled his stray thought that ten people could be in the room watching and he would have no way of knowing. He fervently hoped there was no one else, but at the same time the thought gave him a sick tremor of excitement.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam begged for his captor to at least take off his blindfold, but predictably enough he didn't even pause in grinding against Sam. Sam tried rubbing his face against one of his arms to loosen it, but it didn't work - the blindfold was on too tight. It did seem to anger the demon though, because he grabbed Sam's face with a growl and roughly turned it forward again. The message was clear: Sam wasn't allowed to see what was going on.

Finally, the torturous movement stopped and the demon left his lap. Sam didn't hear the door, so it seemed it was still in the room. He waited in nervous anticipation. 

Then he heard what sounded like a winch turning. At the same time, the rope holding his hands pulled upward until he was straining to stay on his knees. Sam was wondering whether he should stand up - and if his stiff joints could take it - when he felt something pushing in between his thighs, which he'd thoughtlessly spread a little. Sam tried to snap them closed, but hands wrenched them open again, and before he knew it there were cuffs around both of his thighs and Sam couldn't close them anymore - they were as far apart as possible without being painful (the chains around his ankles also seemed stretched to their limits). 

A spreader bar. Sam felt an intense blush spread down his face. He was almost dizzy with humiliation. Now anyone that had the slightest inclination could see his vulnerable hole and genitals, and do anything they wanted to him, and he couldn't do a thing to stop them.

Sam knelt there for what felt like eternity. Had the demon left the room? No, Sam could still hear faint breathing coming from behind him. The demon was just standing there, probably studying his hole, which immediately tightened as much as possible. Sam's blush wasn't leaving anytime soon. 

Then he felt a touch to his hole. Very faint, as faint as the first touch to his cock had been. Was it all going to be like this? Sam hung his head, unwilling to struggle when he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. The finger circled his hole again and again, sometimes dipping a little deeper and then retreating. It left, and when it came back it was wet with what Sam hoped was lube. It pushed into his hole slowly, and at this point Sam was so desperately aroused that he couldn't help making little jerks of his hips, aborted attempts at fucking himself on it. He knew that surrendering like that - helping his captor to rape him - would be the ultimate humiliation, but he couldn't help it.

The demon added another finger, then another, stretching his tight hole open. He scissored them and moved them in and out over and over again until Sam thought he would explode. But he wouldn't beg his rapist to let him come, so Sam stubbornly kept silent, only emitting little gasps and moans when he couldn't control himself.

After what felt like an eternity, his captor must have deemed him ready, because Sam heard a zipper and then he felt warm, hard flesh rubbing between his cheeks. Sam inhaled sharply, struggling and trying to kick behind him despite the futility. He had never been fucked before - girls had always been safer, allowed him to be in charge during sex and ignore his dark, embarrassing desires. Now, all of his artifice was stripped away as the demon penetrated Sam with his large cock. And it was large - Sam had always been average despite his size, but this one had to be at least seven inches. It was thick too, and felt searing hot, leaving no place inside him untouched. Sam couldn't help the moan that tore out of him.

"Please - please!" he gasped, not entirely sure whether he was asking for his captor to stop or continue. The thrusts sped up and Sam wavered, almost losing his balance. He was saved when his captor's hands clamped hard around his hips, sure to leave bruises.

Sam's captor seemed to take an inordinate delight in torturing Sam's hole. He would slow his thrusts until Sam moved his hips to try to get him to go faster, then give a little chuckle like he thought it was absolutely hilarious. At one point he even stopped entirely, making Sam fuck himself frantically on his cock. Sam couldn't get much leverage with his hands tied above his head and his legs spread apart by the spreader bar, but he did his best, shrinking with humiliation as he did it. 

The demon also knew exactly when he was hitting Sam's prostate (since Sam couldn't stop himself from mewling pathetically whenever he did it) and he made sure it happened sparingly. 

After what felt like ages, Sam finally felt himself on the edge of climax. The pleasure was almost blinding - Sam had never felt like this from having sex with a girl. He just hoped that if - when - he got free, he wouldn't be ruined for girls forever, only able to orgasm when submitting to a man. Sam couldn't hold back a whimper at the thought, and that fear - that fantasy - was what finally sent him over the edge with a hoarse scream.

When Sam came to again, a few seconds later, the cock in his ass had stilled. It was still hard, though, so the demon hadn't come yet. 

A second later, something unexpected happened. Sam felt hands at the back of his head untying the blindfold. When it came off, Sam blinked his eyes open. He could feel hot breaths at the back of his neck, sending goosebumps up and down his arms. Sam was almost afraid to turn his head and see the identity of his captor, but he knew he had to find out who it was. 

Sam slowly turned his head, and was confronted the familiar face of the last person in the world he'd expected.

"Dean?" Sam gasped. For some reason the room seemed to be tilting around him. It couldn't be Dean. It just wasn't possible. Maybe it was a skinwalker, or some other kind of monster that changed its appearance. It couldn't be Dean. Even as a demon, Dean would never betray him like this.

"Expecting someone else?" Dean said, smiling like Sam had just told a joke, like he didn't have his cock buried in Sam's ass.

"Get out of me! Get - get out!" Sam scrambled to get away, wrenching his hips forward and bruising his knees on the floor, yanking on the ties. It was fruitless - Dean just scooted forward a little and adjusted his grip on Sam's hips to bring them flush again.

"Aw, Sammy, don't be this way. You were enjoying it before you found out it was me. Always knew you were a little submissive slut. You can't hide it from me." Dean winked suggestively, eyes flicking black, and Sam's stomach revolted. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he didn't have anything to throw up. 

Dean started moving again, but Sam couldn't go limp like he had before. He wished it were anyone, anyone but Dean. Even Dad would be better, and that was a thought Sam never thought he'd have. 

Sam could distantly hear himself begging for Dean to stop, that he could still stop this, and feel tears running down his face, but the only thing he could concentrate on was Dean's cock - his brother's cock - moving steadily and inexorably in his hole.

After the demon blood, Sam had known he would never be pure again. But now he knew there was truly no way out. He was forever corrupted and degraded.


End file.
